


Veterans, Viruses - And Victories

by Cerdic519



Series: Bewhipped! [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adoption, Black Friday, Blow Jobs, Castiel's Trenchcoat, Cock Rings, Computers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean in Panties, Destiel - Freeform, Dildos, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/F, F/M, Gay Sex, Gentle Dom Castiel, Happy Ending, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Mention of War Injuries, Mild Angst, Neighbors, Pining Dean, Professor Castiel, Soldiers, Spanking, Sub Dean, Sweaters, Texas, Thanksgiving, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, mild homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 10:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 10,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8442691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: November in a year of fluff, families, friends and the sort of full-force love and devotion in which professor Castiel has mechanic Dean totally bewhipped.  The future of young Ben is settled as the three-year-old is cleared to move in with the Winchesters, sparking a celebration Dean (and his butt) will long remember. Dean recalls a Sherlockian incident, and a disabled war veteran enters his and Cas' lives. Dean pines when his husband has to take a short college trip to DC (although Cas more than makes it up for him when he returns), there is a yard sale, and someone's plans for Black Friday do not quite work out as hoped....





	1. Thursday 1st November

**Author's Note:**

  * For [staunchlyblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/staunchlyblue/gifts), [randomskittles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomskittles/gifts).



God, being a superhero was tiring! And Dean would certainly never look at either Superman or Wonder Woman in the same light ever again after what he and Cas had done last night! And just where had Cas found that Wonder Woman megamix?

He limped downstairs that morning to find Cas looking worried.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“I went out to get our paper this morning”, Cas said. “That boy gets lazier each day, I swear. I looked across to the Menzies' house, and they've been egged.”

Dean winced. That was the only part of Halloween he disapproved of; kids throwing eggs at houses that didn't provide candy. And worse, it was the Menzies, who would doubtless make a fuss, especially as they probably knew Dean and Cas had been out with kids last night.

“I suppose they might stop talking to us?” Dean said hopefully. “Or decide to move somewhere else? Antarctica's nice.”

Cas swatted at him. Dean yelped indignantly.

“I don't want to be on bad terms with our neighbors if I can help it”, he said reprovingly. “Besides, if anyone asks I am sure the young Fitzherberts will say what happened when we passed their house.”

“Yeah”, Dean grinned. “The grinches were home but hiding from us.”

He dodged the next swat.

+~+~+

As things turned out, that particular matter resolved itself when a family from Clausentum Road visited the Menzies with their kids, and made them apologize. The mother and father had entrusted their teenage sons with taking his younger siblings round, but the four had decided to attack the Menzies house because they didn't like them (Dean could empathize). 

“They still stare at me like I'm some sort of peasant, though”, he said to Cas later.

“Well, Mrs. Benfield says that Archibald Menzies does claim descent from the Stuart dynasty”, Cas said. “That explains the royal flag, I suppose. He clearly expects peasants like us to Know Their Place.”

“Know my place”, Dean muttered. “Sticking my first right in his.....”

“Dean!”

Dammit, he wasn't allowed any fun!

Cas grinned and passed him their laptop, then made his way into the kitchen. Dean sighed and went to log on. The background had been changed to a picture of two men in Halloween costumes, one grinning as Superman and the other managing what could best be described as a forced smile in his Wonder Woman costume. And at the bottom was a number of hits that was....

“Cas!”


	2. Friday 2nd November

There was a tornado warning out, which made Dean anxious. He knew, objectively, that if caught in such a storm, even his heavy Chevy would fare little better than the pimpmobile, but although the tornado was forecast to pass south of the town it was still a blustery day, and Dean feared for the pile of cr... the smaller car his husband drove.

(He had made the mistake of openly voicing what he really thought about Cas' car once – one time, dammit! – and his husband had sulked and refused to put out for a whole twenty-four hours. Worse, he'd forbidden Dean from jerking off as well, and insisted on being sexy and naked around his frustrated husband. But on the upside, the make-up sex had blown Dean's mind! Thank God that had been on a Friday, as Dean had needed the whole of the following weekend – and large quantities of his special ointment - to recover. Even the memory of it made Little Dean perk up. And tremble!).

The blustery weather also made for a much busier than usual day at the garage, since Texas drivers seemed incapable of understanding that cars driving at forty in a wind that was gusting at eighty might take a bit longer than usual to stop, duh! Ash was out in the truck almost permanently, and soon Dean had to text Cas with an apology that he would be home late as they had so much work. Oddly (and worryingly) Cas only texted him back a short 'OK'. That wasn't like him. Dean, being Dean, worried about that. 

He was retrieving a part from one of the old junkers out the back when he heard Bobby yelling for him to get in, so he picked it up and ambled back into the garage. Then he stopped dead.

Cas was there. Cas. With pizza. Dammit, Dean was not gonna cry.

“Bobby you were all too busy to stop for proper food”, Cas said, gesturing to five large pizza boxes. Three were open, and Dean could see one was a meat feast (it was faintly possible that he may have drooled at this point). “So I offered to drop by with dinner.”

“You should marry this guy”, Benny teased.

“Already did”, Dean grinned. “Best decision I ever made in my entire life!”

“Yeah”, Cain grinned. “You make a..... Wonder-ful husband.”

Dean blushed and his colleagues all sniggered. Damn internet!


	3. Saturday 3rd November

One of the great mysteries of home ownership, Dean had often thought, was how crap seemed to somehow appear in their property. Neither he nor Cas were really into impulse purchases, yet the stuff just turned up as if by magic. Unless Charlie was using her lock-picking skills to keep her own place clear of her crap....

Nah, he was sure she wouldn't do that. Fairly sure. 

Today, as it happened, Dean was helping other people with their crap. Specifically Linda Tran, who worked occasional Saturdays at the local thrift store and was cleaning out her own house for donations. Dean would have offered some of his own, but he and Cas were planning a joint yard sale with the still-recovering Sarah Blake the following weekend, in aid of Veterans' Day.

Baby was, of course, able to carry much more junk that Mrs. Tran's little hatchback, which was barely any better than Cas' excuse for a car, so they were able to transport everything in just one trip. Once they had unloaded everything into the shop's store room she thanked him, and he decided to browse round for a bit. The shop was on the far side of town from the estate, so he rarely went there.

It was mostly the sort of stuff which he could see going straight into their own yard sale next weekend, and he did buy a couple of things that he thought he could sell for a decent amount. Then, just as he was leaving, he saw it. In one of the clothes racks that lay all along one wall of the place, the most hideous Christmas sweater in existence! Pulling it out, he winced. Garish green and red, dancing reindeer (Rudolf front and center), Santas, elves – it was absolutely ghastly, the sort of thing he'd run a mile from.

Cas would love it!

+~+~+

Cas did love it. And yeah, Dean did actually cry when saw that look of gratitude on that cute little face, the sort of look which made Dean want to go buy a hundred more dreadful sweaters. Or climb a high mountain. Or abseil down a skyscraper. Or even take a plane ride.

Coincidentally, he did end up taking a ride. A very pleasurable one!


	4. Sunday 4th November

The blustery weather had one annoying consequence, as far as Dean was concerned. Their back garden was now covered in leaves.

“Can't we just leave them to rot down?” Dean whined. “They will. Give 'em time.”

Cas swatted at him. He had gone out some weeks ago and ordered a composter, a huge thing that looked like a water-butt and was placed just outside their back door. Dean had wondered about the smell, but apparently it was all high-tech or some crap, so there wasn't any. But that was where his luck ran out. Cas had an allergy to some chemical in fallen leaves, such that he came out in a rash if he touched too many of them (he had found this out the hard way when his parents had made him clean up their yard, only to rush him to hospital when he had come in with bright red blotches all over his skin. His husband could still remember the panic attack he'd had when he'd seen his young friend on the ward). So only Dean got to sweep up those damn leaves.

At least he had Cas working nearby, even if the little dork insisted on wearing his new sweater. He looked so ridiculous, and every time Dean looked across at him, his heart swelled with love for the little guy. Cas was actually only two inches shorter than him, but he always carried himself like a small man, and that made Dean want to wrap him in his arms and protect him from the big, bad world out there.

“What're you thinking about?” Cas asked, from where he was refilling the bird-food dispensers. The birds called noisily from the nearby hedge, presumably irritated that their twenty-four hour feeding frenzy was being delayed for a few minutes.

“You”, Dean said absently. “How much I love you.”

It said something for how far Dean had come – mostly thanks to his husband's efforts – that he could not only say things like that, but not then have an immediate panic attack afterwards about 'chick flick moments'. Cas smiled at him.

“Once we're done”, he smiled, “I'm gonna take you upstairs and fuck you long and hard. You naked and me wearing only this sweater.”

It can be safely said that Dean Winchester had never swept up garden leaves so damned quick! And Cas, the bastard, called him four times on ones he'd missed, before Dean finally growled at him and the little scamp fled to the bedroom, hotly pursued by one very horny husband!


	5. Monday 5th November

Another of Dean's ideas for improving business at the garage that had worked a little too well had been Christmas check-ups. As with summer, a seasonal five hundred mile drive in a vehicle which spent the rest of the year puttering to and from the local Wal-Mart did not always end well. Last year Dean had suggested offering their regular clients a free pre-winter check-up if they purchased an oil change, which was dirt cheap. More people had taken up the offer than expected (though not as many as had gone for the same thing in summer, thankfully), but overall the garage had done well out of the deal, so Bobby had told Dean to repeat it this year.

Except this year, Dean was planning ahead. By sending out email and postal offers at the start of November, he was scheduling when customers could claim their check-ups, so the extra work would be spread out across the next two months. Krissy suggested that he delay posting the actual letters out until tomorrow as Tuesday was election day, and people would probably be expecting a ton of crap mail asking them to vote for X or Y and might therefore throw the garage letter away. Dean agreed.

There was also Ben to think about. Assuming he moved in on schedule, Cas would be off for his first week, and then Dean would take the rest of December off to be with their son. He had worded the offers to encourage people to apply early so he could do his fair share before leaving.

The garage was a little busier than usual because they still had a few minor jobs that had had to be bumped from Friday (thankfully all the people Dean phoned or emailed were understanding, though he suspected the ten per cent labor reduction Bobby had thrown in probably helped), and Dean spent more time in the garage than usual, only returning to his computer for the last hour of the day. He (very reluctantly) had to admit that Cas had probably been right; he did find his eyes straining at the screen, especially as the office was considerably brighter than the dark, cool garage. And the feral look Cas gave him when he was wearing his new glasses – well, it always led to Good Things.

He got home on time and walked into the kitchen to find Cas standing at the stove, cooking the burgers Dean had prepared the evening before. He walked straight up to his husband and wrapped his arms around the smaller figure, nuzzling into the apple-shampoo scented hair and sighing happily. This was the life!

“You only want me for my body”, Cas muttered quietly.

“Yup!” Dean agreed. “Your point?”

His response was a bony elbow in the chest.


	6. Tuesday 6th November

Election Day. One of Dean's least favorite days of the year.

Bobby had two rules about politics at the garage. Rule one, no politics. Rule two; if some idiot called and wanted to talk politics, Bobby would come out of his office wielding a large wrench and a scowl which could dry paint. They tended not to get political callers. Dean privately wondered if both parties had a common list of 'places you're gonna get hurt at'. 

Now he came to think about it, he and Cas rarely talked politics. Dean generally voted Republican, except he considered one of their two senators was a first-class dick and always voted against him. Cas leaned Democrat but seemed to despise all politicians pretty much equally, and had agreed wholeheartedly that time when some comedian had suggested towing Washington DC out into the Atlantic and letting it sink!

The one thing Cas insisted on doing, and which Dean always went along with, was voting for someone. Cas might be an English professor but he was very hot on the right to vote, and he held that it was the responsibility of those who had the vote to use it. Dean suspected that a lot of people held his own view that one vote probably made little difference, but he knew that Cas felt strongly about this, and they always made a point of going to the polling station together of an evening. They never discussed which way they voted, though.

The only thing about Election Day that Dean liked was the way it always ended. Cas would insist on lecturing him about Magna Carta and the Constitution, and Dean would nod and pretend not to understand. Then Cas would drag him up to their bed and repeat the lesson, whilst fucking Dean between every sentence, determined to drive the message home.

Why yes, as it happened Dean was quite a slow learner. How did you guess?


	7. Wednesday 7th November

They had a visitor that evening. It was Mrs. Benfield.

“I wanted to thank you for helping dear Sarah over your yard sales”, she said. “And yes, I admit it. I'm on the scrounge again.”

“What can we do?” Cas smiled.

“You're helping out with the Veterans' Dinner this weekend”, she said.

“Yeah”, Dean said.

“I wondered if you could help with the transport situation”, she said. “There's a young soldier, Ben Hope, who's moved into Camulodunum Close recently; that's the road that ends behind the park opposite. He's very shy but I wanted him to come and he agreed, except he doesn't have a car just now. Could you give him a lift?”

“It's hardly out of our way”, Cas smiled. “Why not? We'd be glad to.”

“I knew I could depend on you two”, she smiled back. “I only wish your neighbors were as helpful. After their house was attacked, they have been quite... difficult.”

Dean could hear that she had been considering a more direct word there.

“How so?” he asked.

“They're actually threatening to picket the dinner with a 'stop the war' protest”, she said. “I doubt anyone likes war, but it's the American way to support our brave men and women, regardless of how the fools in the capital use or misuse them. There's no reasoning with some people.”

“We hope they see sense”, Cas said grimly. 

Dean looked at him in alarm. He remembered before when an anti-war protestor had called at their flat, and Cas had become visibly angry with her decrying of the military. The woman had fled in tears by the time he had finished totally destroying her arguments, and Cas had taken a long time (and a major blow-job) to calm down. This needed watching.

Though there might be another blow-job in it for him if he was lucky! Always look on the bright side!


	8. Thursday 8th November

“I had an email from Mrs. Andrews this morning”, Cas said over breakfast.

Dean was on edge at once. 

“Is anything wrong with Ben?” he asked nervously. “Or the process? Has that dick of an uncle tried something?”

“Relax”, Cas smiled. “She is on our side, and was offering some advice she only just thought of. She had a case yesterday when the prospective adoptees turned up in flashy new suits, and were clearly uncomfortable. She noticed that it didn't impress the president of the court, and advised us not to try the same.”

“So she's saying we should just turn up as the lumberjack and the flasher?” Dean grinned.

“Or Superman and Wonder Woman?” Cas countered. Dean blushed.

“Never again!” he grumbled.

“Until next year”, Cas muttered quietly, not missing his husband's look of abject horror. “Besides, I like the trench-coat. And I don't seem to recall any objections from you to me fucking you into oblivion with me wearing just that coat, with you in those pink panties.”

Dean frowned.

“When did that happen?” he asked, worried. Was his memory going?

Cas looked at his watch.

“About sixty seconds from now.”

Some day Cas was gonna make his poor husband have a heart-attack, Dean thought as he scrambled for the door. Just hopefully not any time in the next few minutes!


	9. Friday 9th November

Although his actually taking up the job would have surely made Dean have a nervous breakdown, he often thought that Cas would make a great detective. He'd said so once, making his then-boyfriend blush, and Cas had gone out and purchased a Sherlock Holmes-style deerstalker hat. Dean smiled as he remembered Cas wearing the hat. 

Fucking him whilst wearing absolutely nothing but the damn hat. He'd even bought a barley-sugar pipe to go with it, sucking on it between pummeling Dean's prostate into oblivion. God, they were a dirty couple!

Cas was out doing Sarah Blake's shopping whilst she recovered from the chickenpox. Dean had thought they might do hers and theirs tomorrow, but Cas wanted that put aside for the yard sale, so was doing hers that evening and ordering theirs to be delivered because, he said, he didn't want the two lots getting mixed up. Nerd!

Dean arrived home to find his husband's car in the garage but no sign of Cas, so presumably he was taking their neighbor's shopping round. Sure enough, he came back in just minutes later.

“The doctor told her one more week”, he said, sipping thankfully at the tea Dean had made for him. “And she's going away for Christmas to spend it with 'a friend'.”

Dean was on alert at once.

“Did she say where this friend lived?” he ventured.

“No”, Cas said slowly. “But I did notice one item on her shopping list that wasn't there the past two weeks, something I recall she once said she didn't really like. Beef jerky. In different flavors.”

“Oh.”

Dean knew someone who liked beef jerky alright. Someone who went mad for beef jerky, especially the flavored crap. A certain sasquatch.....


	10. Saturday 10th November

The joint Winchester-Blake yard sale was going well, Dean thought. He had gone round to Sarah's house earlier, and carried all the stuff she wanted to sell across to their garage drive (hers was available for extra parking), arranging it all on the left, then set all his and Cas' stuff up on the right. His husband had made a huge sign stating 'Veterans' Day Yard Sale – All Moneys To Our Brave Men And Women', which Dean had stuck up at the corner of their fence. He saw Angus Menzies watching him from the man's own yard, and could feel the look of disapproval even without turning round.

Just you and that bunch of bigots try anything tomorrow, dick, he thought acidly. I'll take your damn placards and shove 'em where the sun don't shine!

Fortunately that was the last he saw of their annoying neighbors. Dean had gone down to Mrs. Benfield's house and helped her fix four signs up on the main road past the estate, plus two on the adjoining estate connected by the footpath through to Calleva Close, each one advertising that there were twelve yard sales for people to look at. Despite the overcast weather they clearly worked, as people were turning up in some numbers.

“This is going better than I expected”, Cas said as a middle-aged gentleman strode off with the bulk of Cas' record collection. Thankfully the blue-eyed genius hadn't suggested that Dean part with any of his own LPs, even though they didn't actually own a record-player. And because Cas knew how Dean felt about those pieces of vinyl, he hadn't pushed.

Best. Husband. Ever.

Mrs. Benfield showed up just after two, clearly doing a tour of all the sales. Dean had just noticed the Menzies all driving off, much to his relief.

“You are doing well!” she praised, looking round at the obvious gaps. “And I've some good news about tomorrow. Apparently those 'nice' people next door have decided not to protest the dinner after all. They're going to demonstrate outside the city hall instead.”

“I hope it pisses down on them”, Dean said sharply. Cas whacked him on the arm, and he yelped indignantly.

“That's alright dear”, Mrs. Benfield smiled. “I hope that too!” 

“Spousal abuse”, Dean muttered. “Want pie to make up for that.”

“There's a slice in the refrigerator”, Cas told him. “Just heat it up in the...”

Dean was already gone.


	11. Sunday 11th November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mention of serious injury (loss of limb) sustained through war

Camulodunum Close lay off Londinium Road, but curved round to finish behind the park almost opposite their own house. Lieutenant Hope's house lay two lots down from the end; had they not been giving him a lift, it would have been quicker to walk to it through the park.

Dean phoned the number Mrs. Benfield had given him to confirm they were on their way, and got a pleasant-sounding young woman who introduced herself as Mrs. Fulready, the lieutenant's younger sister. She thanked them for their help, and apologized that she could not take her brother herself but she didn't drive, which Dean thought a bit odd. She was quite chatty, and he had to cut her off by telling her Cas was starting the car.

They arrived outside number 552, a pleasant white single-story house, and the front door opened immediately. Two people slowly came out, a young woman and a man in dress uniform. She was in her early twenties, he probably a few years older, blond and pale-faced.

He was missing a leg. Cas and Dean looked at each other in silent shock.

Mrs. Fulready thanked them again for coming; she lived on the adjoining estate, but could not drive because she had a health condition that stopped her from ever getting a license. Lieutenant Hope was visibly subdued, eyeing the two men in the front almost anxiously. Dean waited for Cas to pull away, but instead his husband turned round.

“Dean and I just wanted to say, thank you for everything you have done for our country”, he said gravely. “Whatever people think of individual wars and combats, our soldiers deserve our complete and absolute one hundred per cent support at all times. We hope that, in the future, you would consider calling either of us if you needed anything.”

The soldier blushed.

“Ben doesn't accept help easily”, Mrs. Fulready said with a sigh, ignoring the gentle jab she got from her brother. “I wanted him to come with me and Morris to our relatives in Illinois for Christmas, but he refused.”

“Then he can come to us”, Dean said firmly. 

“Sir...” the soldier began.

“That's an order!” Cas said firmly. “We're not having you alone on Christmas Day, sulking over some bad TV. I already have to deal with one person who sulks too much over the idiot-box as it is.”

It took Dean several seconds to react to that with an indignant yelp. The soldier and his sister both smiled.


	12. Monday 12th November

Dean had three things to get through this week. Tuesday was the thirteenth, which meant the gods were probably having a meeting right now to see how they were gonna fuck with him on that day. Thankfully Ben's hearing was on the Thursday, even though that gave Dean longer to work himself into a panic over it. And he had decided to give the pimpmobile a pre-winter check, which with the replies he'd already had at work for the free checks on offer there meant getting it done as soon as possible.

The jerks at work didn't say anything as he drove the pile of crap into one of the bays. Somehow that was even worse.

“Yeah, I loaned Cas the Impala”, Dean sighed. “Yeah, I'm whipped. I know.”

“We weren't gonna say anything, brother”, Benny muttered, looking surprisingly shame-faced. “Cas came down and laid into us for teasing you just because you wanted him to drive safely.”

“Yeah, how does anyone resist that face?” Ash said with a shudder. “God, he looked like he was about to break into tears, we were such heartless bastards! I hated it!”

“Never again!” Cain muttered. “He's worse that our dog when he pulls out those eyes. Made me feel a complete heel!”

Dean did a mental fist-pump.

“So you should”, he muttered. 

+~+~+

The check-up went okay, but the car had a number of minor issues, most of which could be put down to old age. Dean shuddered at having to broach the subject of replacing it with Cas; he knew how attached his husband was to his car. Perhaps after a nice long blow-job.....

Yeah, Dean was such a thoughtful husband. And his conscience could shut the fuck up right now!


	13. Tuesday 13th November

Dean entertained some hopes that today, for once, he might get through a thirteenth without anything major going wrong. Those hopes lasted as far as the front office, where he met a grim-faced Krissy. 

“The computers have got a virus”, she said flatly. “Everything's gone.”

And the bottom fell out of Dean's world. He'd spent countless hours transferring all the old paper files online, and to lose it all just because some jerk got off by infecting a computer for kicks?

“But at least you backed up the files?” Krissy asked.

Ah.

She sighed.

“Lucky the computer's new, then”, she said. “You transferred all the data onto memory sticks for the changeover, didn't you?”

“Yes!” Dean yelled in triumph, rushing over to his desk and pulling open the top drawer. “I put them in here..... I think.”

Nope. The drawer was memory-stick free. Dean's heart sank.

He heard a cough from behind him, and turned round. Krissy was standing there, holding.... a pair of memory sticks.

“You said that you were just gonna throw them away, or use them for something else”, she grinned. “So I rescued them all after you'd finished the changeover and kept them all safe. Say thank you, Krissy.”

“I hate you!” Dean scowled, reaching for the sticks.

“In that case it'll cost you my favorite coffees for the rest of the week”, she said, holding the sticks out of his reach. “And let that be a lesson to you, Dean Winchester!”

He pouted. Didn't work on her either, apparently. Damn! 

+~+~+

It didn't help that Cas was unsympathetic when Dean came home and told (no, he did not whine) him all about his day. Although once his husband had finished, Cas suddenly appeared next to him, jerked down his pants and gave him a rapid blow-job such that Dean's head span as all the blood headed south at once.

“Stopped your whining!” Cas said smugly.

Dean would have protested at that, but he was too intent on trying to remain upright to manage complicated things like speech.


	14. Wednesday 14th November

The sun was just setting after a surprisingly warm day. Dean and Cas were sat reading on the small bench in their garden, enjoying the gentle glow of the solar lights they had installed a few weeks back, when they saw a familiar figure walking down Calleva Close. It was Mrs. Fulready.

“I wanted to pop over and explain a few things”, she said, looking a little uncomfortable as Cas opened the side-gate for her. “Is that alright?”

“Come right in”, Cas smiled. 

+~+~+

“There are a few things I would have liked to have tell you before the dinner”, she said, “but I didn't have the opportunity. The reason I couldn't drive Ben myself is that I have a mild form of epilepsy. It's manageable with tablets but even though I could apply for a driving license, I don't want to endanger others. Besides, Morris has a car.”

“Your husband”, Cas said. She nodded.

“That's another thing”, she said, looking troubled. “Morris dislikes Ben for two reasons. My husband is extremely anti-military, and he made it clear that he did not want Ben in the house as a serving soldier.”

“It's your house too”, Dean pointed out, thinking privately that the woman was being a bit of a doormat. She blushed.

“He's also very religious, and dislikes – I would go as far as hates – my brother because he's gay”, she went on. “Ben lost his leg in an IED explosion in Iraq, and there was some suspicion that his commanding officer, who disliked him because of his sexuality, may have deliberately put him in harm's way. Of course the military is like any organization; it was never proven, and soon brushed under the carpet.”

“Typical!” Cas snorted.

“Ben could really use friends like you”, she said, looking at them hopefully. “My husband is a good man in many ways, but my brother is a sore point between us, and he hates me even walking through to see him.”

“Well, he has us now”, Cas said firmly. “And do not worry about your brave brother. As a dear friend of ours so rightly says, family don't end in blood.”


	15. Thursday 15th November

“The petition is accepted.”

Four words, and they changed their lives forever. Dean didn't fully grasp them until Cas leaned across and kissed him. 

“We won!” he grinned.

+~+~+

The hearing had been a nerve-wracking affair. Mr. James Bourne had arrived in a designer suit with a briefcase bulging with paperwork, and had spoken at some length about his objections to their adopting Ben. Dean's hopes had risen slightly when he caught the president of the court looking more and more annoyed that this tiresome man would not shut up, and eventually she cut him off and said she wished to reach a decision today, to his visible annoyance. He also went a rather odd shade of purple when the president told him that she had received the letter from his wife.

Dean's only slight concern was the recorder, secretary or whatever the hell she was, a woman with shocking pink hair who looked at them as if they were something that had crawled out from under the sink. And then Cas spoke briefly - but he contradicted the smarmy bastard's implication that he did not know their area by offering to enter footage of the bar brawl, as well as a statement from Jo that he, Mr. Bourne had started it. Dean's hope rose as the president looked at the vile creature rather critically.

That was almost lunchtime, and the president had arranged to resume the hearing at three.

The burgers and fries he and Cas had might as well have been cardboard for all Dean could taste them. It was awful; he felt hungry, but he also felt nauseous as he worried about everything that could go wrong. Even the pie tasted like crap.

They made their way back to the court, to be told that the president had indeed reached a decision, and would announce it when they resumed. And then came the best part of the day by far. The president fairly tore into Mr. Bourne, who sat there shocked as she ripped apart his arguments and dismissed his objections. She then asked Ben if he still wanted to live with them, and when the boy shouted 'Yes!” followed a notable pause later by a “uh, please?”, she smiled and announced her decision.

Mrs. Andrews met them outside the court afterwards, and gave them a crap ton of paperwork to take with them. But best of all, she gave them a definite date. Their son would move in on December the first.

Yee hie!


	16. Friday 16th November

Lieutenant Benjamin Hope stared in confusion at the two men standing on his front doorstep.

“Um, hi”, he said. “Sorry, but I'm expecting my sister....”

“We know”, Cas said, smiling at him. “She told you not to cook and that she would sort dinner. We got it for her.”

“Um....”

“We know you may not want company”, Dean cut in quickly. “But we brought burgers.”

He held up the bags they had got, and waited to see the man's reaction. He was clearly uneasy at having them in the house. Time for desperate measures.

“We understand”, Cas said, his voice sad. “We separated out your food. I'll just leave it on the table here.”

Dean looked away before a grin broke out. He just knew what was coming next. There was no way anyone could resist that face.

“Sorry 'bout my manners”, the soldier said, maneuvering himself around on his crutches. “Please come in.”

+~+~+

“You gave him the puppy-dog eyes, didn't you?” Dean asked as they walked home later.

“I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about”, Cas said loftily.

“C'mon!” Dean scoffed. “I married you, remember? I know that you can pull a hurt puppy look that wraps anyone right round your little finger!”

Memo from Dean Winchester's upper brain to mouth; kindly do not shift into drive while I am in park. Cas turned to look at him and Dean, making his second mistake in far too short a time span, looked back.

“Dean”, Cas said pleadingly, “please take me home to bed and fuck me till I pass out!”

Yeah, running with a hard-on while chasing down a teasing husband? Fucking difficult. But oh, so worth it 'in the end'!


	17. Saturday 17th November

It was one of Cas' very small number of failings that he refused to let Dean have a grill in the backyard ('I am not spending all that money for something we will rarely use, Dean'). True, their house wasn't large, so they would not be having that many parties there, but Dean felt that having a grill was some sort of manly right. 

He was not jealous of Andrea letting Benny have one. He was not, dammit!

They were over at their friends' house because of said grill, as they were having a small celebration party at getting Ben to come to live with them. The boy emailed them daily at least now, getting more and more excited as well as (predictably) more and more annoyed at the delay. Ash was driving into Dallas for parts again on Monday, so he would deliver their signed and completed papers to the court in person, rather than trusting the general post. Dean was, truth be told, a little anxious at trusting the stoner-genius, but Mrs. Andrews had told him that the court would give him a signed receipt to confirm the papers had been received, and they would contact the couple by email if they had any problems to iron out.

Cas had wanted to invite Lieutenant Ben to the party, but he had declined, citing having to stay in as he had people coming to refit the house for him. Dean had however persuaded him to let him take a look at his old car, and see if could be adapted for single-leg use or if he might need to buy a new one. Thank God this country looked after its serving men and women!

Benny was cooking half a cow on the grill (of which Dean still wasn't the least bit jealous, and his friend could stop those smug looks right now!), Cain and Colette were discussing something across the garden, Cas was talking with Andrea about God alone knew what, and Ash was on his tablet, away in his own world as ever. Ellen was chatting with her daughter, Bobby snored gently on the bench, and Dean drew a deep breath of satisfaction. 

He was really very, very happy.


	18. Sunday 18th November

Dean screamed. 

“You've been a bad boy, Winchester!” Cas growled, and his hand connected with Dean's already sore butt yet again, making tears flow down the taller man's face. “I think you deserve extra punishment today, but you'll have to earn it.”

How, what was left of Dean's brain wondered? He was splayed over Cas' knees, his cock hanging down hard and leaking between his husband's legs yet restrained by the expanding cock-ring Cas had applied at the start of their scene. Dean's safety bat lay nearby, but he wasn't gonna use it. Yet.

Then he froze. Cas was fingering him open, and yup, the bastard had put the lube in the freezer again. It was fucking freezing, and Dean's head spun round like a puppet on steroids. Cas had four fingers in him before he could come to his senses, and then the little fucker was inserting one of their dildos. God, this was torture!

And he'd actually asked for it! This couldn't get any worse. 

What happened next was impossible. He felt the dildo start vibrating, yet he could also feel the cock-ring moving as well. What the fuck?

“Vibrating cock-rings”, Cas whispered. “God Bless America!”

And then Cas started spanking him again. Dean felt his cock swelling against the restricting ring, fighting to get free, until one particularly hard slap right on where his butt was at its most raw did it, and he came with an inhuman wail. Thankfully not all at once – he would surely have ruptured something – but the ring seemed to open just enough to let him push an orgasm through it until his body collapsed, totally spent.

“Isn't technology wonderful?” Cas said, gently fingering the ring.

“Yeah”, Dean muttered, still recovering. “Wonderful!”

“I can't wait to try it myself. When you're ready, of course!”

And now Dean was getting hard again, so fast that it hurt! Goddammit!


	19. Monday 19th November

One reason they had crammed so much into their weekend (and after Dean had recovered on Sunday, he had crammed himself into Cas in revenge!) was that Dean's angel would be away for the first half of the week. Cas had been assigned to accompany a group of students studying government and law on a three-day trip to DC, worse luck. They were all flying out first thing today and would be back late Wednesday, which was why Dean Winchester had to be up at six in the morning. Ugh!

“I will text you as often as I can”, Cas promised. “We have a little time set aside for sight-seeing, and you'll see me doing silly things at all the important places. Possibly even asleep as they debate in Congress or the Senate.”

“Still gonna miss you”, Dean said resentfully.

“And I'm definitely gonna miss you”, Cas said sadly. “But I shall be back on Wednesday, which means we can celebrate Thanksgiving together.”

“Won't be much of a celebration”, Dean said mournfully. “Ellen's having some sort of do at the Roadhouse, though. We might go there.”

The Impala pulled up in the college car park, where the bus waiting to take them to the airport was waiting. Dean leant across and kissed his husband.

“I'll hold you to that”, he said. “Burgers, fries and pie on Thursday.”

Cas grinned.

“Actually”, he said, “I thought we could mark Wednesday by doing something to mark my return.”

“What?” Dean asked.

Cas got out, shut the door and leaned through the open window.

“I thought I might make one of your favorite sexual fantasies come true”, he grinned. “See ya in two days' time!”

And with that the little bastard sauntered off into the terminal. Dammit! Now Dean had to drive to work with a hard-on! Thank God he was picking up some parts from another garage, which would give him plenty of time to calm 'down'.

He still pulled over and jerked off on the way, though. Waste not, want not.


	20. Tuesday 20th November

Looking back, Dean wondered if Cas had warned Bobby about his husband being away, for the old man had him in the garage for the second day running. It was certainly better than being on the computer, as he had to stay focused on the car he was dealing with, whereas on the computer there were too many opportunities for his mind to wander. Especially with this damn Camry, whose owner seemed to have set out to destroy its suspension!

Dean tried, he did. But when Cas was away, even if he was in the same country, he felt as if a piece of him was missing. He did his job as best he could, but he knew that he was a shadow of his usual self; he knew that his co-workers were stepping carefully around him and not mentioning the C-word. 

His wonderful, kind, caring absent husband, whose frequent text messages and pictures kept Dean going. One of his students had apparently dared him to strike a weird pose at the Lincoln Memorial, and of course Cas had done it, after which they had been pointedly asked to leave. Embarrassing little dork! Dean had once gone on one of those professor rating websites, and hadn't been surprised to see that Cas was the top-rated professor at the college. He'd been so proud of him!

Bobby sent him home early that day, which was probably a relief to everyone, Dean suspected. He went out and had dinner at a local diner, not because he particularly wanted to but because the house felt empty without his husband in it. Yet in a week or so's time they would be three, and the place would be full of noise.

Thankfully Cas had done the laundry on Saturday, which meant there were two days of his dirty clothes in the laundry basket. Of course it would have been a bit odd if not positively weird for Dean to sleep with his husband's dirty clothes just because he missed his scent, so he didn't.

He did mean to take them down to the machine when he took them out of the laundry basket for some reason. He just forgot. Just like the night before.


	21. Wednesday 21st November

Dean had offered to come and pick Cas up from the college, but one of the other professors lived in the estate which the pathway at the end of Calleva Close ran through to, and had said he would drive him home. Dean wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, although he had a feeling that if he had gone and fetched Cas in the Impala, they might have had to 'pull over' on the way home. Several times. 

Or find a motel. 

Or pray that the airport car park security cameras weren't working.

Cas texted him from the other professor's car, saying he was fine, and could Dean kindly go the bedroom, get naked and prep himself? And that alone nearly made the mechanic come right then and there, the thought of some other professor not knowing that his passenger was sexting his husband! Dean fairly flew up the stairs!

The sound of the front door opening, and then shutting. A painfully long silence. Then the creak of footsteps on the stairs, far, far too slowly. Footsteps in the corridor outside. Their bedroom door opening. And there was Cas, standing there, wearing nothing but his professor's cap and a black G-string that barely concealed a clearly very aroused Little Cas. Dean grabbed the base of his cock and moaned.

“Eager!” Cas growled. “Let's start Thanksgiving early by giving thanks for the good things in life. Number one, me fucking you senseless!”

He ran his hand along Dean's crack, smiling as he found the plug. He pulled it out with a pop.

“Well-prepared”, he praised. “I've had three days of whiny students, boring politicians, fast food and no sex. Are? You? Ready?

“I was born ohfuuuuuuuuuuuuck!”

And Cas pushed straight home in a single move, arching his back and moaning like a wounded animal. Then he wrapped his arms around his husband whilst he pounded into him like he was trying to force his way into Dean's soul. Dean grabbed onto the bed with both hands and tried to yell encouragement, but it just came out as a series of grunts and groans, no more coherent than the man reducing him to a pile of frazzled nerve-endings. And finally Cas came, just as he batted Dean's restraining hand away from his cock, letting his husband come too. 

“Oh. My. God!” Dean gasped.

“Yeah!” Cas grinned. “I know I am. Round Two?”

What was left of his husband glared at him.


	22. Thursday 22nd November

This, Dean thought happily, was the life. True, his sex maniac of a husband was a few minutes late to their Thanksgiving meal with Ellen, Bobby and the others at the Roadhouse, but he was on his way, and everything was perfect. Or would be when he got here.

As so often when things went well in his life, Dean's unhelpful brain started a live-action replay of the last time things had gone really badly wrong, with his father's death and Dean's own rapid descent into alcoholism over four years back. But Cas had descended into that particular Purgatory and dragged Dean out, and the love of his angel had seen him through. And now they were becoming a family.

He dabbed at his eyes with a napkin. Damn, he was having a moment!

“Castiel on his way?” Ellen asked, bringing in a huge turkey on a platter. Dean's stomach, more helpful than his brain, jerked him back from his maudlin by reminding him (and everyone else) that he was damn hungry.

“Should be here any minute”, Dean replied. “Can we start?”

“Not until he gets here”, Ellen said firmly. “And pouting only works for him, not you, so don't even try it.”

Fortunately everyone was spared any further symphonic noises from Dean's stomach by the arrival of his husband. Everyone stared at him in shock.

“New jacket?” Ellen asked, recovering first. “Leather suits you.”

“Actually it's one of Dean's that I borrowed this morning”, Cas said. “I tore my favorite trench-coat and had to drop it off for repairs, which is why I'm late.”

“How'd you manage that?” Bobby asked.

Cas just gave Dean a slow grin, as his husband turned bright red. Oh yeah. Round Four that morning, with the Batman shorts.

“We're moving onto saying thanks!” Ellen said quickly. “And I'll whack the both of you if we get any details, understand?”

“Yes, ma'am!” they chorused, smirking at each other while their friends effected a collective eye-roll.


	23. Friday 23rd November

If Dean Winchester had a weakness, it was that he loved a bargain. And since it was Black Friday, he decided he might spend a bit of time shopping online for one. He couldn't do it at work – he always took ages, and it wouldn't be fair to Bobby – so that meant finding time at home. And since Cas and he ate junk food and relaxed most Friday evenings, that meant doing it in the morning. 

Cas was not a mornings person at the best of time, though he would reluctantly drag himself out of bed in time to go to college. So Dean 'accidentally' set his phone to buzz an hour before that. And when he did wake up, he crawled over his husband and gave him a very thorough fucking, that had Cas murmuring his thanks before rolling over and falling back to sleep again.

Dean was such a kind, considerate husband!

He walked quietly downstairs, though he knew that nothing short of an apocalypse (or more mind-blowing sex) would rouse Cas from his bed at this ungodly hour. He switched on the laptop, and waited for the screen to load. 

Odd. There were three emails from Cas, all sent late last night. He must have done them before joining Dean in the bedroom. Dean clicked on the first:

'If you buy anything on Black Friday without running it by me first, I shall withhold all spankings for a year.'

Not much of a threat, Dean scoffed. They were having a kid. Like they'd have time for that sort of thing, worse luck. He clicked on the second message:

'Yes, I thought of that. But I have a new gag that is virtually 100% effective, and since Ben will be locked behind the gates upstairs, I can reduce you to a quivering wreck downstairs in perfect safety. And in under a minute!'

And Dean was suddenly very hard. Hot damn! He clicked on the third message:

'By the way, I will wager that I enjoyed the very thorough fucking you just gave me this morning to try to distract me. And by clicking this message, you're triggered a reminder to me on my phone, so I'm upstairs feeling very smug right now. Coffee please.'

Worst. Husband. Ever!


	24. Saturday 24th November

Dean had spent a small (large) part of yesterday sulking over having been caught out so easily, though a very satisfying blow-job – which Cas had done on his arrival home, before he had even got the garage door fully shut! - had sort of made up for it. Just a bit. He was a bit sad that this was their last weekend together as a couple rather than a trio, the last time they could let rip before they took on the responsibility of parenthood. 

He must have been getting old, though, because when Cas asked him if he wanted to do anything special this weekend, he reddened.

“I just wanna, you know”, he muttered, looking anywhere but at his husband,

“Dean, I am not a mind-reader”, Cas said patiently. “If you want something, you will have to tell me.”

Dean's blush deepened, made worse by an understanding sigh from his husband.

“Ah”, Cas said knowingly. “This would have to do with a certain word that rhymes with 'huddle', and starts with the third letter of the alphabet?”

Dean stared at the floor, wondering if it would open up and swallow him. Cas slowly wrapped his arms around him.

“Dean, I love you so much”, he said. “I would do anything for you. And I know that, hard though it is for others to understand it, asking for someone just to hold you is one of the most difficult things for you. You were raised to think that manly men do not... well, do not, and even though you love it, a part of you feels that it's wrong somehow.”

“It just sounds..... girly”, Dean muttered.

“How about a naked embrace, then?” Cas suggested. “We can get a ton of snacks, listen to that thing you call music, and lie there holding each other in a manly manner.”

“It is music”, Dean said sullenly. Cas was suddenly very close to him.

“I purchased a new stereo for you”, his husband grinned. “You can not only play all those old records of yours, but transfer them to computer format or CD.”

“When did you get that?” Dean asked, surprised and delighted. 

“The mailman brought it this morning”, Cas said. “I ordered it yesterday, express delivery. It's in the garage, waiting for you.”

Dean smiled, and let Cas lead him to the couch. Until it clicked.

“Wait a minute..... yesterday? Black Friday?”


	25. Sunday 25th November

“We're gonna have to be more careful with the upstairs bathroom”, Cas said, placing two keys on the kitchen table. Dean looked at them.

“Why?” he asked.

“Well, Ben is gonna need to use it when he can't get downstairs in time”, Cas said. “Though I'm sure you're terribly upset that we missed the potty training part of his development.”

“Yeah, devastated!” 

His husband smiled at his insincerity.

“That bathroom had two doors, one either side”, Cas said. “We can hardly ask Ben to use the one in our bedroom, if only because we don't want to scar him for life.”

“Not until he's older, anyway!” Dean chuckled, dodging the predictable swat.

“So I've locked the door from our side, and we'll just have to walk down the corridor and start using the far one”, Cas said. “We can't let him lock himself in anywhere in case he gets stuck or something. Can you remove the inside locks on the downstairs rooms later?”

“Sure”, Dean said. “We'll have to get into the habit of leaving them all open when not in use, though, so if they're shut we'll know someone's in there.”

“There's only three of us in the house, Dean”, Cas said reasonably. “Get the screwdriver.”

“Why?” Dean asked.

“I want to sit there and watch a naked mechanic doing some DIY!”

“Kinky!”

+~+~+

It was. Especially later, when Cas insisted Dean fuck him wearing only the tool-belt!


	26. Monday 26th November

“Don't often see you here, Cas”, Krissy remarked as she waited for the printer to whir and churn out the letter she had just typed. “Dean's not done something dumb again, has he?”

There was a grunt of complaint from the subject of their discussion, who was pulling on his coat.

“Not as far as I know”, Cas smiled. “Dean is usually quite sensible and well-behaved, in my experience.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

“Because he knows full well what will happen if he is not.”

“Thanks, Cas!”

“Your two are sickeningly domestic”, she smiled. “And you need to stop giving him hickeys. Every time he thinks I'm not looking, he presses into it and gets that soppy look on his face. It's nauseating.”

“Well, it could be worse”, Cas observed.

“How?” she asked.

“That's one of two hickeys I left on his body this morning”, Cas grinned. “At least the other one is in a place you can't see it. Though if you saw his hand pressing down there.....”

“Euw, Castiel Winchester! You're worse than your husband!”

Dean fell about laughing as the secretary pulled a vomit face. No-one could 'out-disgust' his Cas! And if Dean was really good (or even really bad), maybe he'd get a third hickey later.

+~+~+

He did.


	27. Tuesday 27th November

Cas awoke to a delicious feeling that he was totally smothered by a hot green-eyed mechanic, whose budding erection was poking into his crack. He yawned.

“Time to get up, Dean.”

“Don't wanna!” The man seemed to be trying to burrow inside Cas' skin.

“We both have jobs to go to”, Cas said, although he had to admit it felt wonderfully comfortable. He loved it when Dean did this, using his slightly larger frame to totally cover Cas, their bodies aligning perfectly. Sometimes this did not even end in sex, their both just enjoying rubbing against each other in so many places at one and the same time.

“Throw a sickie”, Dean muttered. “Guys can do without me for a day. Want you.”

“We can't lie here all day”, Cas argued, though it was certainly tempting. “But you're right, this really is very nice. We should do it more often.”

Dean lifted his head slightly, and kissed the back of his husband's neck.

“Can we?” he asked, almost shyly.

“Dean, we're gonna have a kid by this time next week”, Cas pointed out. “This is something we can do, and that won't traumatize him. And we'll hear him coming anyway.”

“Good”, Dean muttered. 

“Good”, Cas said with a smile. “And this particular type of cuddling I find is really quite....”

Dean was already disappearing into the bathroom, huffing loudly. Cas chuckled. Mentioning the C-word always worked.


	28. Wednesday 28th November

The new office computer was acting up again. Fortunately Dean had the perfect solution. One with red hair.

Charlie pressed a few buttons, and the dratted thing blinked back into life.

“All done”, she promised. “Think it was just residual crap form that virus I cleaned out the other week. Sometimes they have bits that only trigger a few weeks later. But you're fully protected now, and it should do exactly what it says on the tin.”

“Thanks, Charlie”, Dean smiled.

“Glad I'm here, because I can save myself the extortionate cost of a text message”, she said. “Although for once, I'm saving you a bit more.”

She handed him a small, garish colored bag, He looked at it uncertainly.

“I went to Comic Con”, she said, “and if you say anything about it, I shall tell Cas about the porn you keep on your laptop.”

“I don't save any porn to my laptop”, Dean pointed out. Which was true; he used memory sticks like a sensible person.

“There will be some there by the time I tell him, though!” she grinned. “Open it!”

Nervously, he reached into the bag and pulled out a small, carved blue owl, similar in design to the one on the table in the hallway at home (they might have to move that with a kid in the house). This one was a couple of inches long, flat and clearly designed to hang from a Christmas tree.

“I thought what with Cas having bluebird in his email address, and his being named after the angel of solitude, he'd like that to go on the tree.”

“It's perfect!” Dean grinned. “How much do I owe you?”

She grinned mischievously. Dean felt more than a flicker of fear.

“Oh, I want something other than money”, she said.

“Go on”, Dean said warily.

“Dorothy and I want to be the first ones to babysit.”

Dean grinned.

“Think we can probably just about manage that”, he said.


	29. Thursday 29th November

The pimpmobile careered into the garage, and juddered to a halt. Cas leaped out and fairly sprinted into the front office. Krissy was there, alone.

“What happened?” he demanded anxiously. “I got some text from Benny asking if I could come to the garage at once, but he didn't say why.”

“Dean's in Bobby's office”, she said, looking worried. “Bobby's taking care of him. You, uh might want to talk to Benny first. Be gentle with him.”

She meant it. Her elder sister had been at the same school as Dean and Cas, and had told her of the time Dean joined his boyfriend in coming out. One of the jocks there, Darren Azazel, had teased Dean about it at gym, mocking him in front of Cas. 

Azazel had acquired a broken arm by the following day. And a broken leg. And a black eye. And a new school. 

Cas had acquired a Reputation.

+~+~+

“I have told Benny that I forgive him”, Cas said angrily as he held his husband close. “I don't really, but he's your friend, and it was done through stupidity rather than malice.”

Dean shuddered.

“'M being stupid”, he muttered, not looking at his husband.

“Taking on a child is a big responsibility”, Cas said. “Benny teasing you that it was only 48 hours to go was mean, and yes, I did expect you to freak out just like I did.”

Dean looked up in surprise.

“Didn't see you freak out”, he said.

“Remember that morning just before the decision meeting, when I was a long time in the bathroom?”

“No?”

“I was sat on the toilet, wondering what the hell we were doing”, Cas admitted. “Then I remembered. We have each other, so that when one of us stumbles, the other can bear the extra load. I knew that even if I went back into that grotty little room and broke down all over you, you'd be there for me. Just like I'll always be there for you.”

Dean looked down, sniffing mournfully.

“Bobby says you can go home now”, Cas said. “I'll follow you. I think someone needs some, ahem, manly embracing tonight. And we will stop on the way home and buy some pie from your favorite shop.”

His husband managed a watery smile.


	30. Friday 30th November

The last day of November. Their last 'childless' day.

“We should invite Ben over for dinner tonight”, Cas said at breakfast. “I should have thought of it earlier.”

“But he's coming tomorrow”, Dean objected.

“I meant Lieutenant Ben”, Cas said. “It's St. Andrew's Day today, and he's Scottish. His sister told me so.”

Dean pulled a face.

“You're not gonna serve haggis are you?” 

He realized his mistake a moment too late.

“Hmm, haggis”, Cas smiled. “I remember sending you a postcard from Great Britain which claimed that 'haggi' were red and green tartan-colored sheep with legs one side shorter than the other, so they could run round the tops of the Scottish mountains more easily. And you emailed me back asking if I'd actually managed to get a photo of one, so I sent you a copy of a drawing one of my fellow students had done.”

“Shaddup!” Dean bitched good-naturedly, before his face fell. “You're not gonna tell either of them about that?”

All together now. Dean really, really needed to keep his big mouth shut!

+~+~+

Lieutenant Ben had offered to walk to their house, but Cas decided that it was too far given his recovering condition, so Dean fetched him in the Impala, with which he was suitably impressed. As he was with the haggis story, which had brother and sister in fits. Dean decided it was worth the humiliation to see the young man's strained face light up like that. Besides, he could always make Cas pay for it later. He sipped his favorite beer (part of Benny's four-can apology for the day before) and smiled. Everything was fine.

He'd forgotten that Cas had brought a kilt back from Scotland. It was almost as hot as Dean's Hawaiian experience earlier that year, even if it was Dean Winchester being fucked by a man wearing what was basically a skirt. And Cas managed to take first the high road and then the low road!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter in honor of a certain American friend of mine, who thought that 'haggi' were indeed red/green sheep-like creatures that ran around hilltops in southern Scotland. I still have the drawing that a fellow art student did of the 'creatures' for him.


End file.
